The Last Guardian
by kanemi
Summary: AU. How long do you think you can last? I have all the time in the world to show you the truth, and I shall use that time wisely.


Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine, nor do I make a profit off of this story. Should those individuals who do own the rights to Naruto request it, I will remove this story.

o o o

He could feel it, a steady hum that reverberated throughout his body, a persistent tingling that coursed through his brain, like the whisper of silk against ivory skin, seductive, insistent, and oh so intoxicating. There was nothing gentle in that presence, nothing resembling kindness in those dulcet tones, and yet he was comforted nonetheless. Familiarity bred reliance, and though he despised her with all of his being, hers was a presence that he had long ago come to accept.

He did not look around him, but he knew she was there, standing a few feet behind him, as was her custom. She was there... she was always there, dark eyes burning with that odd mixture of loathing and desire that he had long ago come to associate with her. In the dark part of his mind, he felt a ripple, and he knew that she was smiling at him, ruby lips parted in a demonic parody of a smile, her sharpened fangs bared as though in laughter.

That was an experience that had long ago fled him. He was not the type to derive enjoyment out of the suffering of others--

"_**Not yet...**_"

--and happiness was a emotion that he had all but forgotten, one of those childish sensations that had once flickered within his heart, but was now stilled, the ashes of his joy snuffed and scattered in his journey to become the man that he had become. It made him wistful at times, as his mind traveled the paths of yesteryear to recall half-remembered sights and sounds, but mostly it merely hardened his resolve, knowing that those memories were long gone, vanishing in the wind like some ephemeral dream, leaving only one path for him to travel.

He grimaced, chastising himself for his weakness in thinking such thoughts. It did not matter. None of it did, not the innocence of Sakura's smile, or the pride in Iruka-sensei's eyes--

_Stop_, he begged, closing his eyes against the pain, the old ache of past regrets and grief. That too was an old companion of his, as was this plea, one made so many times that he no longer knew to whom he pleaded, whether to the specters of his past or the demon of his present.

He heard the tinkling of laughter, the amusement of a monstrosity whose only joy was his anguish, and he felt a flicker of resentment as it churned within him. But it was a phantom sensation, one that had lost its significance in its futility, and it quickly faded, leaving him once again empty and cold.

He glanced around him, seeing his surroundings for the first time since he had entered hours ago. He was safe here, he knew, or else she would have warned him, but he needed to distract his mind, and so he looked anyway.

It was a familiar scene, one he had seen played out in bars in every town he had journeyed through. In front of him, seated around a dusty table, were four older men, each hunched over a mug of beer as though shielding a precious treasure, their faces downcast. None of them spoke, but to his trained eye, he could see the details that others would have missed. Their posture, their body language, their movements, each of these things told him of the weariness that they felt, the tired resignation that he had seen in a thousand others, that spoke of people who were waiting for the end.

Hushed conversations reached his ears, and he strained his senses to listen.

"...the Lightning Country has already started an invasion of the Wind Country..."

"...Orochimaru is a demon. They say that he does research using the survivors of his raids..."

"...inhuman experiments..."

"...the Wind and Fire country armies are being pushed back..."

Laughter, shocking in the gloomy atmosphere, sounded, and he glanced to his right, drawn by the sound. In the corner he saw a young couple, their features half-hidden in dancing shadows and cigarette smoke. The girl was lovely, fresh-faced and youthful, her features reddened from drink and love. The boy was handsome, his face creased by a grin that seemed to envelop his face. He gestured wildly, his hands jerking about as though they had a life of their own, yet neither seemed to notice, both too intoxicated by the other's presence to see beyond that.

In those dark times, it was an unusual sight, and one that he found himself drawn to. There was a part of him that sneered in disdain, contempteous of the sheer audacity of these two, as they went about their lives pretending that people were not being slaughtered by the hundreds everyday. And yet, what would allowing their fear to control them do? What would they accomplish if they were to merely sit in the dark and await the end?

As though sensing his eyes upon them, the boy frowned, turning away from his sweetheart to look in his direction. The light flickered again, and he could see a familiar pair of dark eyes gazing out of a pale face.

_Sasuke_, he thought, and the world lurched.

_--The haze clears from his brain, and he is himself again. He lurches unsteadily, drunkenly, the demonic chakra dissipating at a speed that makes him physically sick. He gags, coughing hoarsely, falling to his hands and knees as he fights to bring his body back under his control._

_There is blood on his hands, but he cannot remember how it got there. It is sticky and thick, the bitter smell of it overwhelming his senses. He feels bile once again rising up in his gorge, but he fights it down this time, blinking his eyes rapidly as he takes in his surroundings. Fear and confusion fight for dominance within him as he looks around, still hunched over as he waits for the world to stop spinning._

_He is in a valley of some sort, one that he has never been to before. Small patches of vegetation and rocky outcroppings rise here and there around him, and he notes absently that many of these too are covered with the crimson liquid. It seems as though some battle were fought here, but for the life of him, he cannot remember any of it._

_A flash of metal at his feet catches his eye, and he stares at the item, waiting impatiently for his eyes to focus so that he can see. His eyes widen as he recognizes it as a hitate headband, one worn by those of the Hidden Leaf. He picks it up, carefully, the blood smearing on the black cloth, but that goes unnoticed as he sees something very unusual about this one. There is a line across the hitate, an angry scar that neatly bisects the Hidden Leaf symbol. He touches the mark, amazed, worrying at its significance._

_A hacking cough breaks the eerie silence, and his eyes jerk upwards, to see his friend, perhaps his only friend, leaning against a nearby tree, his hands clutching at his stomach. The boy's face is pale and drawn, and the steady flow of blood pulsing from his abdomen tells him that the boy has been seriously wounded._

_Dark eyes stare at him, holding him within their clouded gaze. The boy coughs again, his face tightening as he fights the pain, before he speaks. "Do... do you really think... that you can just turn your back... on everything?" Sasuke whispers._

"Stop it," He hissed, clenching his hands at his sides. "Why are you doing this to me?" His voice was pleading, a fact that he would normally view with disgust, but he was beyond that now. Like an infected wound, he could feel despair and anguish throbbing throughout him.

He felt her move then, a soft rustle she walked behind him. He jerked as he felt her slide her arms around his chest, like a hug but with none of the sentiments. Her voice sounded in his ears, a sultry purr as she whispered in his ear.

"**_To show you the truth, little boy_**," she murmured. "**_Why do you hide in their world when you are not one of them? Why do you play by their rules when you are so far above them? They are mere insects, and yet you still pretend as though they were somehow significant._**"

He felt angry then, the brief ember erupting into a hatred that would have been beyond the twelve year old boy he once had been. For a moment, he felt the urge to lash out at her, to shove her aside and scream out denials at the top of his lungs. Feeling that burning rage boiling up within him, he still managed to hold himself in check, knowing from past experience that it would do no good. He could attack her, and had, and it had done no good. He could launch a blistering tirade at her, and she would only smile while the other patrons would only stare at him in alarmed confusion, none of them seeing the demon that tormented him so.

_It isn't real, _he told himself, _she is all in your head._ _She can show you stuff, but none of it is real. She can try to make you crazy, but it doesn't mean you have to be._

Yet there was that part of him that wondered at that. Were these visions, these whispers and flashes of sight and sound all illusions? How could they be, when there were times when it seemed as though the visions that she gave him were the only things in his life that were real?

"**_Poor little boy,_**" she continued, twisting his head until he was forced to stare at her. Her dark eyes seemed like molten pools of darkness in the half-light of the bar as they peered into his own, burning and searing his very soul with their gaze. "**_You have lived amongst the humans for so long. For too long. They have corrupted you, forced their own pathetic concerns and tribulations upon your shoulders. They have twisted you to the point that you don't even know who you are anymore._**"

Her hand was warm against his face, and unconsciously, he found himself leaning into it, reveling in that warmth. Staring into that pale face, she seemed suddenly the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Slowly, his arm shaking, he brought his hand up against her hair, his fingers twisting in the crimson locks. There was a darkness there, he knew, a darkness that would devour him if it could, but, in that moment, it seemed inviting, a shadow that would wash over him, bring him the comfort and ease that was so lacking in the harshness of the light.

"No!" he shrieked, shoving himself backwards with all of his might. He fell backwards, his chair slamming into the ground, and he with it. His head bounced against the wood of the floor, causing ripples of agony to pulse through his brain, but he welcomed the pain, smiling even as his eyes watered. He focused on it, allowing it to cleanse him of her unholy influence.

He rose to his feet on unsteady legs, blue eyes flashing as he looked at her. That had been close, he knew, far too close for his comfort. In his despair and self-loathing, he had almost given into her, and the evil that she represented.

There was a look of rage on her face, her beautiful features twisted in a look filled with such malice that he felt his soul shriveling in fear. She snarled at him, overlarge canines bared in a growl that forced him back a pace, the palms of his hands sweating as he found himself falling into a basic defensive position. If she could, she would destroy him, he knew without a doubt, but she was powerless for now.

That was why she needed his help. He was the last guardian, the final barrier that stopped her from returning to the world. Without his willing aid, she was ultimately powerless, a mere phantom trapped within his mind and body.

That was the reason for these little games, these little tests. She sought to bring about his downfall, to corrupt him to the point that he would turn his back upon his ideals and break the seals that kept her imprisoned. For years, he had been the subject to her whispers and suggestions, and, had events been different, she could have very well succeeded.

But she had overplayed her hand. He had given her control once, briefly, and she had used him to slaughter his friends. Though he knew he would carry those scars with him for the rest of his life, he was grateful at least for one thing. He knew her game now. He knew what she wanted, and what she was willing to do to get it. Most importantly, he knew what the cost would be if he gave in, and knew that that was something he must never do.

His defiance merely served to fuel her fury. "**_You are alone, human. Your friends are dead, and your people seek your demise. One by one, everything that you seek to protect crumbles to ash. That little snake grows stronger every day, and in a matter of months, he will destroy everything that it took you humans millenia to create. But we can stop them. Give yourself to me, and together we will crush that fool and wipe out his forces. Give yourself to me, and we can usher in a new era, one in which you shall be hailed as the savior of men._**"

He could feel her power surging through him, and he knew that she spoke the truth. He knew that without his aid, the Hidden Leaf would fall. Already they were being pushed back, their forces slaughtered against the superior might of Orochimaru's forces. They simply lacked the resources to stop him, and it was simply a matter of time before they would be destroyed. If she helped him, if they helped each other, then they could stop it all. He knew this all, and yet...

And yet, in the back of his mind, he could still see the smile of the girl that he had loved, the smile that he had once fought so hard to protect, the smile that had been snuffed out by the demon before him.

He stared at her, his blue eyes hardening as his doubt and confusion washed away. "No," he replied, calmly, his stubborn refusal to back down in the face of adversity rising to the forefront.

"**_Do you think you can defy me forever, little boy?_**" she taunted, her rage transforming her sweet whispers into a feral growl. "**_I am a goddess, the most powerful of the tailed-beasts, and you are all too mortal. How long do you think you can last? A month? A year? A century? I have all the time in the world to show you the truth. Immortality is your curse, and I shall use the time wisely. In the end, you shall crawl before me and kiss my feet. You shall beg for me to take you, and curse the prideful stupidity that kept you from submitting."_**

"Maybe you are right," he admitted, ignoring the confused and alarmed looks he was receiving. "Maybe I am stupid, and I would be better off just giving in. Maybe there will be a day when I will give up, and let you have your way. But that day will not be today."

Smiling wryly, he slapped a few coins on the table, winked at the boy he had mistaken for Sasuke, and strode out into the night.

o o o

Author's notes: Just a small glimpse into what Through Crimson Eyes might have been like. Please review and let me know what you think. This has only hastily been proof-read, so if there are mistakes, please let me know.


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